


(extra) ordinary friday night

by symphorine



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Multi, mention of hinata and yukie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphorine/pseuds/symphorine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Friday evening, and Bokuto surprises his tired boyfriends.</p><p>Alternatively, <i>cooking</i>, or the hidden talent of Bokuto Koutarou. That he worked very hard to acquire, but shhhh, his boyfriends can't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(extra) ordinary friday night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shittygomu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittygomu/gifts).



> the prompt was "'Are… are you cooking?' prompt. Honestly I wanna see Bokuto cook but idk who to ship him with in this case. Kuroo? Akaashi?? Tsukki??? All three??? The possibilities are endless"
> 
> I hope you like it, it was fun to write, and thank you for giving me the occasion to try my hand at this ship :D

 

Kuroo sighed as he reached the top of the stairs. The day hadn’t been particularly eventful but, for some reason, it had seemed much longer than usual. Every class had felt like a hours-long call to napping and even coffee hadn’t succeeded in giving him any more energy. He’d really been looking forward to the walk back home with Akaashi and Tsukishima - their classes finished pretty much at the same time, and it was much less lonely like this. But, more importantly that day, it marked the end of a succession of classes each more boring than the other, and he was feeling so drained that he hadn’t even participated in the snark-off his two boyfriends had started as soon as they had met up.

He fumbled with the keys and had to try twice before he got them into the lock. Behind him, Akaashi and Tsukishima were arguing about woodprint history, which was a subject both beyond his knowledge and his capacity for attention, especially at seven in the evening on a Friday night. All he was hoping for were the couch, some terrible movie they could watch and make fun of, and snuggling with his three other halves - well, quarters, maybe? _semantics_ \- until he fell asleep.

Which sounded like many of their Friday nights anyway, so he was pretty confident in his plan, until they got in the appartment, closed the door, and Bokuto wasn’t there to greet them.

He finished earlier than them on Fridays, and would usually get take-out for their dinner and come home to clean up a bit so none of them would have anything more to do in the evening. Which meant he gathered all of their things lying on the ground, dumped them in a corner - at this point, it was more The Corner, and it was very much hidden behind multiple clothes and notebooks and kneepads and books - and lazed around as he waited for them.

So to have him nowhere in sight was a bit unsettling. Kuroo turned to the other two, and they shared a confused look.

“Maybe he fell asleep?” Akaashi offered, shrugging off his jacket.

“Call him,” Tsukishima told Kuroo with a gesture toward the - apparently empty - appartment as he took his shoes off.

It took Kuroo a few seconds to process the words, his brain still as sluggish as it had been all day, but he shrugged and then cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Oi, Koutarou!”

“Not that loud!” Tsukishima protested with a sour face.

Kuroo was wondering if he could keep up with even light bickering, when his train of thought was interrupted by a muffled “Shit!” and a loud clang coming from the general direction of their kitchen. Akaashi reacted the quickest and darted off, leaving his bag behind him. Tsukishima and Kuroo took off after him after a shared, vaguely panicked glance, and they came to a halt next to him as he pulled open the door to the kitchen.

Bokuto was there, looking at them half-sheepish half-irritated as he sucked on his left index.

“Get out, guys, I’m not done,” he ordered, looking actually serious for once.

He was completely ignored. His boyfriends took in the scene with bewildered eyes. The window was wide open, and there was a big dish of pasta on the counter, looking - and smelling, Kuroo noted - pretty delicious. There was a small pan lying in the sink, most likely the one Bokuto had just dropped, if the splotches of sauce on the ground were anything to go by. Other than that, the room was surprisingly clean, even couting the table where a few ustentils were still lying around. _Surprisingly_ because, the last time Bokuto had tried to help in the kitchen, they’d ended up with food everywhere and nothing to actually eat.

“Are… are you cooking?” Kuroo articulated carefully, holding on to the doorframe.

“He’s obviously not running a marathon,” came Tsukishima’s dry reply on his right, but Kuroo kept his eyes on Bokuto, who scrunched up his nose and crossed his arms defensively, but nodded. Stunned silence dropped as they wrapped their heads around the concept, but a few seconds in, Bokuto started to fidget, and he turned away to go run cold water on his hand. Three pairs of eyes followed him.

“What did you mean when you said you’re not finished?” Akaashi asked, just as slowly as Kuroo had, and this time, Bokuto winced. He mumbled something under his breath.

“We can’t hear anything,” Akaashi frowned.

“I mean, it’s nothing incredible, and I’m done with the pasta,“ Bokuto repeated - and if he’d been the type to blush, his face would have been bright red right about then - “but I wanted to try doing something for dessert too, but I haven’t even started yet, because the rest took me so long, so.”

He drew out the last syllab awkwardly, shut the water, and turned back toward them, shoulders slightly hunched. He looked like he didn’t know what to expect. It shouldn’t be that surprising, actually - they _had_ forbidden him to try anything in the kitchen that involved more than a spoon after the last incident. But obviously, this time everything had gone very well, and they were all impressed, and more than that, pretty surprised.

Then Kuroo felt a wave of affection surge in him, because he was tired, and hungry, and ready for the day to be over, and Bokuto had made the effort to cook for all of them, and he loved him, he knew he loved him, but it hit him particularly strongly at that moment. He squinted and took the few steps between them, brought his hands to each of Bokuto’s cheeks and bore his eyes into his boyfriend’s, ignoring the slightly apprehensive look he was wearing.

“I love you so much right now, you have no idea,” he sighed, then promptly kissed him on the mouth.

After a moment of surprise, Bokuto enthusiastically reciprocated, and it took several long, long seconds before they parted. Kuroo exhaled, then let his head rest on Bokuto’s shoulder.

“Long day?” he asked with a smile Kuroo heard in his voice.

“He was practically sleeping on his feet on the way here,” Tsukishima supplied in his back, and even though Kuroo couldn’t see him, he was pretty sure he was smiling too, because he sounded mocking and fond in equal parts.

“I want to lie down and not get up for at least three weeks,” Kuroo mumbled in Bokuto’s shirt.

There must have been some kind of silent communication between his boyfriends, because after a few seconds of silence, he felt large hands settling on his hips and pulling him gently.

“Come on, let him finish in here,” Akaashi said softly, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“What did you want to do for dessert?” Tsukishima asked as Kuroo was being led out of the kitchen, the usual bite in his words covered by genuine curiosity.

“Remember when Keiji and I went to the Fukurodani reunion last month? Well Yukie had made this-”

Bokuto’s voice was covered by the door’s creaking, and then Kuroo was dragged and pushed down on the couch by Akaashi, almost tripping on the coffee table on his way. He almost protested at being manipulated so easily, but his eyelids were irresistibly dropping and a hand trailed lightly from his hips through his chest, until it reached his face. It lingered there, the contact comfortingly warm, until Akaashi stepped back. Kuroo opened his eyes gain as he felt the hand leave his cheek, and watched his boyfriend go back to the entrance to retrieve everything they’d left there.

His gaze followed Akaashi as he busied himself, dragging their bags next to the large table they used as a desk, set up on the other side of the room, between the couch and The Corner, and tidying the mess they’d left in the small hallway. Tsukishima and Bokuto’s voices were a soothing noise in the background. He couldn’t really make out the words, but they sounded relaxed, their conversation punctuated by Bokuto’s bright laugh here and there. Kuroo almost let himself be lulled to sleep, sinking in the pillows, but shook himself out of it. As tired as he was, he didn’t want to miss out on time with his boyfriends. He grunted and sat up, feeling half of his joints crack and pop at the movement, and grabbed the remote control to turn the television on. His ears were instantly attacked by the police sirens of some drama, and he muted the sound with a wince.

“We should let Koutarou choose,” Akaashi murmured behind him.

Kuroo almost jumped in surprise; he hadn’t even seen him come back. Then he dropped the remote with a grunt and dragged his hand on his face, trying to will his eyes to stay open.

“Yeah, we should,” he agreed before letting out a huge yawn.

Akaashi walked around the couch and plopped down between him and the armrest. Kuroo accepter the wordless invitation as Akaashi spread his arms, and he lied back down across his boyfriend’s lap, head on the armrest, Akaashi’s hands settling once again on his waist, and in his hair. This time, he let himself close his eyes and be soothed by Akaashi’s fingers, carding softly through his hair. He felt like he was floating.

He came back to the present some time later when someone grabbed his legs. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to see Tsukishima, his freshly showered hair still damp, dressed into old sweatpants and one of Akaashi’s T-shirts, letting Kuroo’s feet fall back in his own lap and leaning against the other side of the couch. Someone had dragged the coffee table closer to them and disposed plates there. The television’s sound had been turned back on, but low enough that it was little more than background noise, mixing with the faint hum Kuroo could hear coming from the kitchen.

Figured Bokuto would sing while he cooked. 

It made something warm in Kuroo’s chest swell.

A little revigorated by his nap, Kuroo followed distractedly the action on the screen for a few minutes, poking Tsukishima’s side with his toe and getting pinched in return, before the door to the kitchen was pushed wide open. The three of them turned their heads toward Bokuto, who was clutching the dish so tight his fingers must have been hurting. He was chewing on his lower lip, his eyes fleeting from one of his boyfriends to another, until he took a deep breath and finally joined them, setting the pasta on the coffee table.

Kuroo had to actually get up as they helped themselves to generous portions, and did so with enough disapproving noises to get even Akaashi to push him lightly with his foot, asking him to stop. Bokuto was the first to sit back, but before he could start eating, Kuroo tugged at his sleeve. When Bokuto looked up, he smiled and leant in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek with a soft “Thanks” before sitting down too. Tsukishima followed suit, and then Akaashi, who brought a hand to Bokuto’s chin as his lips brushed his jaw.

A wobbly smile formed on Bokuto’s face, like he was trying not to show it, but he gave up and let a happy grin settle there, in the face of which Kuroo knew no matter how awful his cooking might be, they would all eat it to the last crumb. Even Tsukishima, who was usually the most vocal about what he disliked, wore a resigned - and subtly affectionate, for anybody who knew where to look - expression for a second before he shook his head and started eating.

Bokuto grabbed the remote Akaashi was offering as he told him he could choose whatever he wanted, and Kuroo sat with his legs across Akaashi’s thighs this time, feet tucked under Bokuto.

“Wow.”

Tsukishima was staring at this plate.

“What?” Bokuto asked, worry instantly coming back.

“It’s actually really good,” Tsukishima said, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Akaashi and Kuroo looked at each other, then dug in at the same time under the expectant gaze of their boyfriend.

You could taste a bit of burned off parts, which Bokuto had probably scraped out of the pan, but other than that, Tsukishima was right: it was actually really good. Kuroo nodded frantically to show he agreed. Akaashi chewed slowly, wiped a bit of sauce Kuroo had accidentally projected on his face and sucked it off his finger before giving a smile to Bokuto.

“He’s right, it’s good,” he declared, and they all saw the tension in Bokuto’s body basically evaporate as he let himself slide back between Tsukishima and Akaashi and sigh.

“Did you train or something, Kou? Because I can’t believe you went from making chocolate coal to this,” Kuroo asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m hurt that you find all this so- so _extraordinary_!” Bokuto retorted with a slap to Kuroo’s leg. “Just because I messed up once doesn’t mean I’m hopeless, guys.”

“Right,” Akaashi let out in the flatest tone he could manage.

None of them believed Bokuto had suddenly had a culinary illumination, but they were too hungry to try to pry the truth from him. He’d probably end up telling them anyway. Only Tsukishima kept frowning at his plate, while the others were absorbed in the kid movie Bokuto had chosen, and in their food. After several seconds of apparently intense reflection, he emitted a triumphant noise and turned to them with a grin.

“You went to ask Hinata for help, didn’t you?” he said in a tone that indicated it wasn’t really a question.

“Hinata?” Akaashi enquired, confused.

“Yeah, he’s a good cook, his mother taught both him and his little sister. And not a lot of other people would be able to keep up with Koutarou and teach him,” Tsukishima shrugged, fighting off Bokuto’s attempts at putting his hand over his mouth. “Plus, he made the same thing last time we saw each other,” he added, gesturing at his plate.

“Fine, whatever, he owes me tons of favors anyway,” Bokuto snapped, crossing his arms in defeat. “It doesn’t change the result, does it? I can cook properly. Woohoo, big news.”

“It makes everything even cuter, honestly,” Kuroo smiled, knowing it would fluster Bokuto.

“But you’re right, it’s still delicious, now can we go back to eating?” Akaashi interrupted, throwing a pointed look at Kuroo and Tsukishima in turns.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kuroo mumbled, still sending an amused smile at Bokuto.

It might have been fun to tease him more, and Kuroo finally had the energy to do just that, but he knew when to stop pushing, and Akaashi telling them to cut it so unsubtly was an obvious warning, so they did just that and cleaned their plates in only a few minutes before setting them back on the coffee table. They settled more comfortably, all snuggled up together - even Tsukishima had abandonned his position at the other end of the couch to lean against Bokuto, who hugged him closer. They became so enraptured with the movie that they only remember Bokuto’s dessert by the time Akaashi and Kuroo had stopped both crying over the end and pretending they totally weren’t.

“I’m full and really too tired,” Tsukishima complained, tugging Bokuto back in place when he looked like he was going to get up.

“Is it still gonna be good tomorrow?” Kuroo yawned.

“It should be, yeah,” Bokuto answered with a quick glance to Tsukishima, who nodded.

“I think so too.”

“I vote we go to bed, then,” Akaashi proposed.

He got up and stretched, followed by the others with various degrees of reluctance. Kuroo emitted a long whine before Tsukishima flicked him in the head and told him to stand up. He complied, grumbling all the way, and they left their dirty dishes in the sink for the next morning. They took turns brushing their teeth and changing out of their clothes, leaving Akaashi in the bathroom last so he could shower in peace. Bokuto was already in bed, and Tsukishima joined him as soon as he’d put his phone to charge. Kuroo struggled with his shirt for a minute before he finally won and disentangled it, slipping it over his head easily. He then slid on the right side of the bed; because of they way he tended to sleep - in a completely impractical, space-and-pillow consuming position - he was usually not in the middle.

They left the small bedside lamp on Tsukishima’s side on, and after a few whispers, their voices died out, silenced by the sleepiness that took over.

Kuroo was only vaguely awake when Akaashi came back. He heard him rummage through his clothes, then listened to his steps, the soft click as he turned the lamp off, the creak of the bed as he lied next to Tsukishima.

Akaashi whispered a “Good night” half muffled in Tsukishima’s neck, and Kuroo answered with a sleepy noise as he finally let himself drift off to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, here's the [tumblr post](http://asexualkurootetsurou.tumblr.com/post/140592925184).
> 
> Chocolate charcoal is real and terrible, never forget the water when you want to melt chocolate in the microwave.


End file.
